So Often True

The next morning Belle et Bonne received an email.

Bugger! she said. It's from Gaius. He thinks he's promised us an article.

Crumbs! said Marie. I was hoping he'd forgotten.

At least Gustave and Violetta seem to have forgotten, said Belle et Bonne. One out of three isn't bad. I'll ask him to come in and discuss it, shall I?

Okay, said Marie.

.......

Later that afternoon Gaius entered the Velosophy office, to find Belle et Bonne, Marie and a plate of macarons.

Good afternoon young ladies, said Gaius. Better late than never.

Oh Gaius, said Belle et Bonne, that is so often true. Do sit down and have a macaron. Would you like a cup of tea?

Thank you, Belle et Bonne, said Gaius. I do hope my tardiness has not put your magazine to any inconvenience.

As a matter of fact it hasn't , said Marie. We have been extremely busy with our other contributors, one of whom is the famous French philosopher and novelist Albert Camus.

My goodness, said Gaius. Perhaps you do not need my humble contribution.

Oh no, said Belle et Bonne. We do. Have you any idea what the subject of your article is likely to be? I remember your last contribution was a mystery thriller.

I am flattered you remember, said Gaius.

Who could forget? said Marie. You tried to solve the mystery of two disappearing bicycles, and ended up at the local Korean church being mistaken for Jesus.

Just then Sweezus put his head around the door.

Tell me about it, said Sweezus. That happens to me all the time.

But you are Jesus, said Belle et Bonne. Silly boy.

That doesn't make it any less annoying, said Sweezus. Hey! Are those macarons? Awesome! Can I have one?

You may have as many as you like, Sweezie dear, said Belle et Bonne. And would you like a cup of tea?

No thanks, said Sweezus. Have you got a Diet Coke?

Here you are, said Marie, handing him a Diet Coke. Now let's get to work. I've just had a brilliant idea!

Double Confusion

Pliny writes:

Most amicable greetings to Professor Healey, from Pliny the Elder,

Sir, I am indeed that Pliny who wrote a story that was published in Velosophy. If I recall, it was a mystery, about a disappearing bicycle, in which I featured as an amateur detective, in the process being accidentally taken for the Messiah by the singing members of the local Korean Church. I am not too modest to admit that my story was enthusiastically received. The editors of Velosophy are therefore well disposed towards me, and I shall be very pleased to put your name forward as a potential contributor. Your interest in bicycle philosophy does you great credit, sir.
I am, etc...

He sends the email. A short time later he receives a reply.

Pliny: Oh, drat and blast!

Me: What's the matter?

Pliny: I've sent it to the wrong Professor Healy! How could I do it twice?

Me: You mean you sent it to the Classics Professor Healy, the one you were going to complain to?

Pliny: Yes, and now he has replied, thanking me for the invitation to contribute to Velosophy.
Listen to this:

Dear Gaius Plinius Secundus, what a wonderful surprise to hear from you after all this time. I had not realised you were still alive! I hope you do not mind me saying so. I was delighted, if a little surprised, to be invited to write something for the magazine Velosophy. It is a great honour, I understand. Your own story, which I have not read, sounds a remarkable one. I hope I shall come up with something if not as good, at least worthy of your confidence in me as a writer. I will admit, many years have passed since I last rode a bicycle. PS. Just a small point. My name is spelled Healy.

Me: Is that it?

Pliny: What do you mean is that it? It's a disaster! I can hardly write him a complaining letter now. And furthermore I am obliged to write to the editors on behalf of two Professor Healeys or Healys, both of whom are virtually unknown to me.

Me: Are you fearful for your reputation?

Pliny: No, no. Of course not.

Election Day Snaps

1. It is very cold outside the Korean Church at 8 o'clock in the morning. We arrange a few boards and posters. Christopher Pyne rocks up in his big election car. I don't think the Korean Church will like your poster on their railing, he says. Won't they? I say. No, he says making a scowly-Pyney face.

2. It is icy cold, and getting colder. I hop back and forth over a puddle to keep warm, and shuffle the How to Vote cards.

3. The Greens man greets everyone with: "Smile at the future?" An old lady says angrily: No way! Later he tries to hang his poster in a tree. It falls down. The sun comes out momentarily. He asks me if I want to borrow a hat. I say no thanks, even though I would like to see his hat.

4. A small boy is sobbing on the pillion of a parked motor bike. His mother addresses him loudly from the voting queue: I should have made it clearer, Darren. It's not time for the Museum yet. Darren's sobs become increasingly theatrical.

5. In the afternoon, we are at Surrey Downs. The Greens man there thinks that he knows me. Did your kids used to go to Irish Dancing lessons? he asks. No, I say, they didn't.

6. It is still freezing cold in the shade outside the polling booth. Round the corner, in the sun, four children are playing. One has a bike. Run us over! shout the other three. They stand with their legs apart and their arms wide open, pelvises thrust forward tauntingly, even the little sister in her short pink coat. The one on the bike rides towards them, but turns at the last minute. Chicken, says one of the boys.

7. Nina has left us sandwiches and a drink. The drink is Diet Blood Orange.

8. At the after party, in the Bowling Clubrooms at the Paddocks, it gets hotter and hotter. We watch the results on a screen. They show misleading sets of numbers and we can't hear what anyone's saying, but the local candidate seems to have won. Everyone claps. But he's on his phone. It's not looking good for Labor.

9. We probably have a hung parliament. Now I'm in bed, wondering whether today really happened.